There is something missing in life and I guess I am missing it big time... I assume it’s my field work after much contemplation... I yearn to go back into the streets for a while and work and converse... I miss certain faces, raw conversations, dusty roads, narrow lanes, dark forests, dirty kids, small rooms, small wells, ponds, dirty dingy lanes, crowd and colorful Chunni. I miss walking around with her - with my field companion... she was raw, broke and beautiful. She had that inner strength that I find missing in myself. I went with her to have lunch.. I did not have food - so she bought me a plate of cholle Batture from the vendor. It was cold... she had it with a relish and me staring at her and had it out of hunger thinking how many microbes went in my tummy. We sat in one corner of a very small room. From there I could see lot of other homes... They were all small, full of kids, noises, TV on its full volume... some money plants and during winters, everyone was busy making sweaters for kids, for their husbands, brothers and all... happily basking under the sun...
Even if they were poor they did not regret it. They lived, survived in all odds and now they were the kings of those little rooms, managed to get their kids admitted to a govt. school and managed to paint their home this Diwali or the other yet, they found time to smile at you.
Every evening with a sip of Chai - the moments were nothing but golden and precious - encaptured in my eyes forever... And. then at twilight, I headed towards home - trapped in emotions of people - the way they live and inspire to move on tough sturdy paths and yet remain peaceful and satisfied with whatever they have...
I miss something of this and something of that.. I miss someone.... miss a life I lived... I immensely miss what I am...
